


fill the gap

by piratej



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, no serious angst or anything don’t worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 23:23:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20455262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratej/pseuds/piratej
Summary: Hyunwoo was so kind, so patient, so goddamn oblivious.





	fill the gap

**Author's Note:**

> back from wip purgatory with my first mx fic! i’ll try and work on Actually finishing stuff and post more often. kudos and comments are always appreciated!

Jaw still set, like it’s been since halfway through dinner, Minhyuk lets the door fall shut on Hyunwoo, trailing a few uncertain steps behind him, feet not quite fast enough to keep up with Minhyuk’s vengeful power-walk, and being smart enough not to try. Hyunwoo catches the door with a winded half noise, but without complaint, closing it gently behind him, and it almost makes Minhyuk angrier. Hyunwoo was so kind, so patient, so goddamn oblivious. 

Oblivious enough not to realize that their waitress was flirting with him, despite the way his fingers were linked with Minhyuk’s above the table and their ankles were linked below. He didn’t flirt back, because Hyunwoo was a simple man who kept his head free of complexities, which included being even halfway interested in anyone who wasn’t Minhyuk, but he was courteous and cheerful and funny in his awkward way, and too polite to say anything when the waitress had brushed her delicate hands over the slope of his shoulders. Minhyuk, not nearly as courteous or cheerful or funny and certainly not as polite, had bared his teeth in a savage approximation of a smile. Hyunwoo’s brow had crinkled a little with disapproval when Minhyuk was short with the waitress, but the waitress didn’t seem to notice anything outside of the breadth of Hyunwoo’s chest and the warmth of his eye smile and Minhyuk couldn’t bring himself to care. 

The entire meal had passed like that, Hyunwoo oblivious and Minhyuk sulking, Hyunwoo looking at him with that  _ look _ and Minhyuk brooding, the waitress giggling and Minhyuk positively pouting. He couldn’t leave the restaurant fast enough, not staying to see how much of a tip Hyunwoo would leave. He waited outside the door, but started walking the few blocks back to their apartment much faster than he needed to, hands stuffed deep in his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to slow down and fill them with Hyunwoo’s. 

To Hyunwoo’s credit, he didn’t press. He never did; if Minhyuk didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to touch him, didn’t want to tell him how he felt, Hyunwoo never forced him. He was as patient and unobtrusive and devoted as ever. Minhyuk wished that for once, Hyunwoo would use that steady strength of his to just  _ push _ . But he didn’t; he trailed a few steps behind Minhyuk, all the way to their building, silent in the elevator, all the way to their room. Minhyuk heads straight for the bedroom.

Hyunwoo follows. While Minhyuk takes off his earrings and his necklaces and his bracelets, setting them on the dresser with tiny little  _ clinks _ , Hyunwoo sits on the edge of the bed, removing his watch, unbuttoning his shirt. Minhyuk watches him surreptitiously through the mirror. About halfway through unbuttoning his shirt, Hyunwoo looks up. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he’s said to Minhyuk since asking quietly if they were ready for the check, after Minhyuk turned his nose up at Hyunwoo asking what was wrong. His voice is low, soft, too small to be coming from a man his size. The storm inside Minhyuk swells and softens. 

He plays dumb. “What for?” Pulling off his oversized sweater, leaving him in a pale blue button down with a Peter Pan collar, Minhyuk turns around. He rests his hip against the edge of the dresser, just watching. 

Hyunwoo opens and closes his mouth, like a fish, brows pulled close over his nose. “I don’t know,” he says honestly, “but you’re upset, so I should apologize.” 

It’s so hard to be mad at him, when he says things like that. Things that make Minhyuk want to kiss him senseless, taste that devotion on his tongue. “What if I wasn’t upset with you?” Because he wasn’t, not really. 

“I should still apologize. Because I didn’t do anything about what upset you.” Hyunwoo looks solemn. He looks soft. Minhyuk makes the few strides over to the bed, lowering himself half in Hyunwoo’s lap, one leg thrown over his sturdy thighs while the other remains bent beneath him, letting Minhyuk squish his cheek into the solid swell of Hyunwoo’s shoulder. 

Hyunwoo doesn’t say anything else, just brings one broad hand up to close around the swell of Minhyuk’s ankle, tracing upwards until he could stroke absently at the whale tattoo revealed by Minhyuk’s shorts. 

“Do you wanna know why I’m upset with you?” Minhyuk says, muffled into Hyunwoo’s arm. The muscles shift beneath his face as Hyunwoo shifts a little to look at him. 

“So you  _ are _ upset with me.” 

Minhyuk ignores him. “That waitress was flirting with you all night!” 

Hyunwoo wrinkles his nose, blinks twice. “No, she wasn’t.” He blinks again. “Was she?” At least he knew that he was clueless enough about things to realize that it was possible he’d missed it. His cluelessness, as endearing as it usually was, only served to frustrate Minhyuk all over again. 

“ _ Yes!  _ And you just let her!” Minhyuk hates feeling like this. He was always needy, a little clingy, a little demanding, but never this darkly petty, this jealous. It burns his chest from the inside. 

At that, Hyunwoo’s pretty mouth, impossibly soft and pursed, a little bit dry, twists. “No, I didn’t.” His voice is almost rough, as rough as he ever allows himself to be with Minhyuk — which is not very — like the very idea of Minhyuk thinking that hurts him. His front teeth pull at a piece of skin on his lips as they thin, and it bothers Minhyuk enough to rummage around his pockets for a tube of strawberry chapstick, gripping Hyunwoo’s chin long enough to swipe it across his lips. Hyunwoo rubs them together obediently, and speaks again when Minhyuk puts the chapstick away. 

“I didn’t,” he says again. “I didn’t even know she was flirting. I was just trying to be friendly.” 

Minhyuk deflates, just a tiny bit. He knows this. He’s just upset anyway. “You’re so dense, sometimes.” 

Hyunwoo doesn’t argue, just asks, “What did you want me to do? If I had noticed.” Knowing that Hyunwoo would do it, do anything, sits somewhere in Minhyuk’s belly. 

“I don’t know!” He headbutts Hyunwoo’s shoulder. “Not be so polite, or keep doing stuff to remind her that you’re with me. I don’t know.” He repeats, voice smaller. He doesn’t know, because it’s a pretty stupid reason to be upset with a guy like Hyunwoo, who has taken and thrown punches for Minhyuk, who has weathered every single one of Minhyuk’s storms like a lighthouse. But he can’t help it. 

Hyunwoo shifts beneath him, strong arms flexing as he gently holds Minhyuk’s hips in his hands, lifting him to sit firmly in his lap. Minhyuk buries his face in the crook of Hyunwoo’s neck. When arms wrap around him gently, Hyunwoo nosing softly behind his ear, the wind goes out of his sails. He mostly feels bad for making Hyunwoo feel bad. 

“Okay.” Hyunwoo rumbles, Minhyuk feeling the word echo through his chest before he hears it. “I love you.” 

Minhyuk nuzzles his face further, kissing one of the flats of bone in the center of his chest, between the swells of his pecs. “Love you too.” He unbuttons the rest of Hyunwoo’s shirt from his seat in his lap, just so he can snake his arms under it, linked at the small of Hyunwoo’s back and pulling him closer. “Can we watch a movie?” Hyunwoo relaxes infinitesimally beneath him, exhaling through his nose and tickling Minhyuk’s hair. He answers in a low hum, but busies himself with unbuttoning Minhyuk’s shirt first, shrugging both of their tops off and onto the floor. 

Lifting him like he weighs nothing, Hyunwoo manages to gently rid Minhyuk of his shorts, setting Minhyuk down on the bed as he gets up and walks to their dresser, wearing only his jeans, dark earrings glinting in the low light. Minhyuk admires him. 

For all his awkwardness, his cluelessness, his devotion, Hyunwoo doesn’t look like what anyone would expect him to. He’s tall, broad, with a heavy brow and sturdy arms, a small waist. Strong enough to protect Minhyuk from everything Minhyuk will let him protect him from. The dimples in his lower back shift as he leans down to rummage for pajamas. He’s unfairly pretty, despite the strong body; his cheeks are firm and glow under the contours of his bone structure, and his lips are the softest things Minhyuk has ever felt. He loves him, a lot. 

Hyunwoo comes back to bed, with an old University t-shirt and a pair of patterned pajama bottoms in his hands. Minhyuk, no longer angry but still uncharacteristically contemplative, lifts his arms obediently so Hyunwoo can put the shirt on, disrupting his efforts to dart out for kisses when the neck hole aligns, giggling. Hyunwoo’s face scrunches into that amused little crescent that makes Minhyuk’s chest seize. 

“Why are you still wearing pants?” He asks, batting away Hyunwoo’s hands before he can put the pajama bottoms on him. Hyunwoo’s eyes crinkle sheepishly as he helps Minhyuk shuck off the tight jeans, almost falling over as he hops on one leg. He stays in his boxers and nothing else, legs long and sturdy. Strong, just like the rest of him. Minhyuk slides his own pajama pants on, huffing a little when he lifts his hips to slide the waistband over his ass and flopping back on the bed when he’s finished, making grabby hands at Hyunwoo. 

His boyfriend kneels obediently, knees carefully bracketing either side of Minhyuk’s thighs, straddling his lap without setting his weight down. Not that he thinks Minhyuk can’t handle the weight, which is what Minhyuk used to accuse. Not that Hyunwoo is particularly heavy, either, though he is, just a little bit. It’s just one of those Hyunwoo things, careful and gentle. In his lap is a strange place for a man like Hyunwoo to be, anyway. It makes Minhyuk giddy. 

With Hyunwoo perched in his lap, thighs tense but not straining with the effort of holding himself up (and  _ damn _ if that silent strength doesn’t do something to him), Minhyuk reaches up to carefully remove Hyunwoo’s Bvlgari earrings, setting them on the bedside table with a muted noise and rubbing the earlobes between his fingers. When it seems like Hyunwoo might have started to doze off in his lap, Minhyuk pulls on them enough to get him to grunt, flicking one with his tongue in a way meant to be more obnoxious than sexual, and judging by the way Hyunwoo wrinkles his nose, it works. 

“Are you too tired to watch a movie?” Minhyuk asks, brow arched, leaning back and pulling Hyunwoo with him until they’re laying down, Hyunwoo still bracing himself scant centimeters above Minhyuk. 

“No,” Hyunwoo says stubbornly around a yawn. Minhyuk just pinches his chin and adjusts them until it’s comfortable, Hyunwoo beside him with his head pillowed on Minhyuk’s shoulder. Usually, there was nothing Minhyuk liked more than being held, but having someone as strong as Hyunwoo in  _ his _ arms made a rush of emotion thrum through his veins, every time. Rolling his eyes and pressing a kiss into Hyunwoo’s hair, Minhyuk turns on a movie, some comedy from a few years ago that he thinks he remembers seeing with Jooheon in theaters. It doesn’t matter — Hyunwoo’s snoring within minutes. Minhyuk smiles, and shuts his eyes. 

••

In the morning, glasses on his nose as he stretches, Hyunwoo says, “Let’s go to breakfast.” 

Minhyuk, unilaterally against leaving the apartment before noon, releases a pathetic whine, pulling the comforter over his head. Hyunwoo patiently tugs it back down. “Babe! It’s early!” 

“It’s almost ten.”

“Early!” Earlier than Hyunwoo usually gets up, and earlier than Minhyuk  _ ever _ wants to be up. Unfortunately for him, Hyunwoo’s got a killer pouty face when he bothers to use it. He sighs. “Where?” 

Hyunwoo’s eyes turn into crescents, knowing he’s won. “The café you like across the street. You can get hotteok.” 

At the mention of sweets, Minhyuk sits up fast enough to jostle Hyunwoo. “Hurry up and get dressed, babe, I don’t have all day!” Hyunwoo pinches his knee and laughs, standing to pull track pants on over his boxers and throw a t-shirt at Minhyuk. 

Within fifteen minutes, they’re sitting at a little table inside the café, ankles locked under the table. A waitress comes up to them as Minhyuk makes funny faces at Hyunwoo from behind the menu, and his ears flush pink. “Hi,” she greets with a small bow, “what can I get you both to drink?” 

Hyunwoo answers first. “Good morning, this is my boyfriend.” 

Minhyuk blinks. 

The waitresses mouth opens, pauses, and closes. “Can I get you or your boyfriend anything to drink?” she finally manages. Minhyuk still isn’t in a position to speak. 

“I’ll just have a coffee, please. Babe?” Hyunwoo looks at Minhyuk, gaze warm and pointed. 

“Um. Water, thank you.” She bows and leaves, and Minhyuk turns to Hyunwoo with a look of bewilderment. “What was that?” 

“Just letting her know you’re mine. No point in repeating last night.” He says it plainly, only smiling bashfully at Minhyuk once before returning to examining the menu. 

Minhyuk feels his heart skip a beat and grow three sizes, warm down to his toes. “Oh,” he says, a little dumbfounded, a lot in love. “But  _ you’re _ mine.” 

Hyunwoo glances up from the menu, face relaxed. “That’s fine, too.” His knee bumps Minhyuk’s under the table, and his free hand grips Minhyuk’s above it, and when the waitress comes back with their drinks, he barely even glances up. Minhyuk, too busy staring at Hyunwoo with hearts in his eyes, doesn’t either. 


End file.
